


Stay With Me For Eternity

by dinosaurus_maj



Series: Oh My God, You Were Roommates! [2]
Category: Hazbin Hotel (Web Series)
Genre: (in the past), Accidental Bonding, Alastor and reader share a body, Alastor is Bad at Feelings (Hazbin Hotel), Alastor wants to be selfish but he loves you too much, Angst, Asexual Alastor (Hazbin Hotel), Aww, Breakfast, Dancing, Dancing and Singing, Demon possession, Dorks in Love, Dream Manipulation, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hospitalization, How exciting, Idiots in Love, Kinda, Lucid Dreaming, Mutual Pining, Near Death Experience, No Smut, Reader-Insert, Sharing a Body, Singing, Soft Alastor (Hazbin Hotel), Songs, Visions, it's been awhile since they met so their relationship is a lot healthier than you'd expect, not beta read but I die like a wimp, which idk how to write so it's gonna be scarcely detailed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-17
Updated: 2020-03-20
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:48:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23028079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dinosaurus_maj/pseuds/dinosaurus_maj
Summary: Alastor wants you dead.You also want you dead, but do you want to throw your life away for your charming and demonic roommate from Hell who youmighthave a crush on?(Set in the same universe as 'Your Inner Demon')
Relationships: Alastor (Hazbin Hotel) & Reader, Alastor (Hazbin Hotel)/Reader
Series: Oh My God, You Were Roommates! [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1655005
Comments: 34
Kudos: 285





	1. Take My Hand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Take my whole life, too._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "I'm not going to write anything more about this concept."
> 
> Famous last words. Thanks for 100+ kudos and almost 1k Hits wait WHAT THE HECK—
> 
> This (and the other two chapters) has actually been sitting around in my files for a while and I did mean to post them earlier and all at the same time, but I got hit by the ol' Procrastination and My-Works-Suck ball (and also exams) but it's FINALLY HERE babey!
> 
> I hope you enjoy! I also hope y'all like this as much as the first fic. It's not a direct continuation or prequel, but it has the same premise.

Your feet sink where they step into the snow. The cold nips at your uncovered face, so Alastor lifts the red scarf higher over your nose and holds it there. Your head lifts up to gaze at the night sky, twinkling with few stars in the far distance above.

"Some of the few things I miss about the living world is the blue sky and the changing of the seasons," Alastor sighs. "Though, I do remember there being more stars to gaze upon."

His more eloquent speech spoken in your voice used to make you cringe, but you've gotten used to it at this point to not give it a second thought.

 _Mmyeah, it's a shame._ you think. _Technology is cool and all, but the world got too bright for the stars to shine. 'Sucks._

Alastor continues on the stroll, humming as he does. Your hands are held behind your back and your eyes remain on the deep-blue sky. A car passes by, momentarily grabbing Alastor's attention.

 _There're people that drive out to the middle of nowhere just to look at the stars._ you say. _We can do that too, if you want._

You briefly pull up the thought _It's usually done for romantic dates._ but shove it away quickly. He manages to catch it, though. A flustered feeling comes from you, and he chuckles, rubbing your covered hand with a thumb. When he tries hard enough, he could almost fool himself into thinking that he was actually there with you.

"I would love that." he says softly. There's that feeling again as well as some warmth that creeps into your cheeks. How cute.

He's imagining it now; you, lying down on a blanket laid out in a field somewhere, eyes reflecting the twinkling lights of the sky. He sees himself there with you, holding your hand, or maybe holding you in his arms, indulging in your warmth and presence. The only star he'd be gazing at is you, and hopefully you'd be gazing at him, too. It'd be romantic, like in those movies that you like watching so much.

He stops abruptly, blinking. Wait, does he _want_ it to be romantic? No, no, no, of course not. It'll just be a casual, enjoyable moment with a person he's comfortable with.

What he wants is for these growing, confusing feelings he has for you to go away. He's the cold-hearted Radio Demon. He shouldn't want to make you happy—to hear your adorable, dorky laugh or see your silly, _cute,_ crooked smile. He hates how much he wants to be with you, to hold your hand in his own for once. He shouldn't want to sing and dance with you for the rest of eternity but it's hard to deny that he cares about you _so much more_ than anything he's ever cared about before and maybe even _loves_ you and it would be _so easy_ to just snap your neck and—

_Something wrong?_

Your mind's voice stands out among his private thoughts, dousing him like cold water and making him jump out of his deep contemplation.

"No, there isn't," he lies, like a liar. "It's just that..."

He goes silent. After patiently waiting a few seconds, you hum, prompting him to continue.

He sucks in a deep breath. Why did he feel so nervous all of a sudden? Was it you? No, he recognises these feelings as his own. He wants to tell you, but he doesn't know how to form these thoughts into proper words. He hates it. He shouldn't be feeling so lost. He hates feeling lost.

He couldn't outright tell you that he wants to kill you. For some reason, he felt like you wouldn't appreciate such bluntness.

"Would it be so bad if you died right now and joined me in Hell?" he asks, talking as if he wasn't outright telling you to kill yourself just so that you could frolic around in the Underworld with him. You're unfazed by the question, merely snorting incredulously.

_I'm not killing myself, Al._

"I can easily make it look like an accident."

 _No—Al, I don't want to die yet._ you say. _There's still stuff I wanna do._

"You can do them in Hell!" he insists. "You'd be surprised by how similar it is to the living world."

_Does Hell have blue skies and pretty green horizons?_

"Ah, well—"

 _Al, as fun as going to Hell sounds,_ the sarcasm is thick in your words. _I'd rather not do that just yet. It might be cool to meet you, sure, but we can still hang out like this._

He sighs defeatedly. "Well, it is your body..."

He can sense you smile gladly in your shared mind. _Thanks, Al. Hey, when I do die and end up down there, we can do a whole bunch of stuff together, whatever you want. Sound good?_

That lifts his spirits and he laughs. "That sounds like a splendid idea! I cannot wait!"

The two of you fall back into a companionable silence. Alastor continues to hum a more cheerful tune, stepping onto the asphalt road with a skip in his step. When you die, he'll take you to the hotel and introduce you to everyone else. He's been telling them about you every chance he gets and Charlie in particular is beyond excited to meet you. He knows they'd like you immediately; who wouldn't?

He's so lost in thought that he almost doesn't notice the car zooming towards him. The headlights capture his gaze and your limbs lock up. From feeling everything, he suddenly feels nothing as he stares back at the bright, shining lights. He's so distracted that he almost doesn't hear you screaming at him in your shared mind.

You suddenly seize control from him, shoving your body forwards. Your shared body narrowly misses the car, its hull grazing your clothes briefly as it sped by with a loud honk. Cold sweat is beading your forehead and your precious little heart is racing a mile a minute.

"Crap, Al...!" you pant. "That was way too close! You gotta be more careful—"

Something shines in the corner of your vision. You turn your head just in time to be blinded by a pair of lights before everything goes black.


	2. Dance With Me, Darling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _And let me hold you forever._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [In The Good Old Summertime](https://youtu.be/mv4SUNNRTjQ)  
> [Some Enchanted Evening](https://youtu.be/ng3XJnC8IN8) / [Jackie Evancho's cover because why not](https://youtu.be/jxKyA_evIp0)
> 
> (Please inform me of any typos, grammatical errors or formatting errors. Tell me if you think there's a way for me to improve this chapter.)

Your consciousness becomes aware of music playing around you, buzzing faintly with static. You can sense the comfort of a blanket over you, but you're also cuddled up against something warm. Something is also pressed into your side. It feels like an arm, like someone is holding you close.

Alastor is humming along softly to the music he's playing, but something about his voice seems... Off. You can't put your finger on what it is, but you know that something about it is Off. Despite feeling the usual weight of laziness, you pry your eyes open. Your face is pressed up against whatever–whoever–it is you've cuddled into, so you're simply met with only darkness at first.

You feel the Someone play with your hair, pulling out the knots and tangles they had twisted themselves into during your slumber. Their touch is gentle, careful as to not pull too hard. Their other hand rubs your back and you find the simple gesture very comforting, almost lulling you back to sleep.

You feel them kiss the top of your head.

"Rise and shine, darling." Alastor whispers. Along with the unusually low volume, his voice is clear, devoid of static, and you can _hear it with your ears_.

"A... Al?" Something churns inside you. An unsettled, unnerved feeling. You pull away from the pleasant warmth and the first sight you see is your hands resting on someone's chest. They're wearing an unbuttoned waistcoat over a red shirt, a bowtie tied loosely around their neck. The sleeves of their shirt are rolled up their pale, grey-skinned elbows. You blink blearily. Yes, they _are_ grey.

You pull against their hold on you, and they comply, letting you lean back a little to look at their face.

The skin of their face was also a pale grey, framed by short, black-tipped red hair that sprung up in tufts at the top of his head and looked strangely like ears. A pair of small antlers were nestled between them. Your eyes draw downwards and met their bizarrely red ones, hooded by dark, red eyelids. The corners of their mouth was drawn up in a gentle smile.

They could only be one person.

"Alastor?" Your voice comes out as a shocked whisper. The demon's smile widens a little, showing the pointed tips of his yellow fangs. You feel his thumb rub the dip in your back, and he leans in close to you, seeming caught in some sort of daze.

"Hello, darling." His voice was low, almost sultry, and it made your face go warm and sent your heart skipping. You draw away from him, knowing that the proximity wasn't doing you any favours.

"What–What are you doing here?" you stammer. " _How_ are you here?"

"Well," he begins, sounding very pleased. His hand on your back doesn't let you lean as far away from him as you'd like. "Last night was movie night. You were terribly insistent on spending it with me so surely, I couldn't have said no."

Movie night? Last night? You wrack your brain for the memory. Surely, you'd remember spending the previous evening watching dumb movies with a charming (and _somewhat_ handsome) demon who you deniably had feelings for in the comforts of your bed before falling asleep with him on said bed. You've had skips in your memory before, even on good days (sometimes because of his weird demon magic) but it couldn't be _that_ bad, could it? If it was, a part of you is really pissed at yourself because you really would've like to remember that.

"Movie night? I... Ah... Um," you search for something to say that wasn't incoherent gibberish. You couldn't tell him you couldn't remember. You know that he's going to get very annoyed at you. "Did you find it... Fun?"

You regretted the words as soon as it came out of your mouth. It's not an incredibly stupid question, but to you in that moment it might as well have been the dumbest thing to be uttered ever.

Alastor chuckles, sending the butterflies fluttering in your stomach tumbling around against each other. God, why did the smallest sounds of his voice have to make you feel like a flustered anime schoolgirl?

"Time spent with you is always fun, _mon chére_."

The butterflies are exploding in excited squeals. You're sure that he can see the redness in your face. You frown hard to fight the smile your mouth threatens to curl into, and you furrow your brows in a scowl. He _has_ to know what he's doing to you, the bastard. You refuse to give him the satisfaction.

"You haven't answered my other question." You force the nervousness out of your voice and shove some strength into it instead. "How are you _here?_ "

He cocks an eyebrow, seeming amused by the question. "Why, I shadow-traveled!"

" _What_ -traveled?"

"I teleported, my dear! It's as simple as that."

"Ah, right." In your mind's eye, you suddenly see an image of him forming and solidifying out of the shadows and things suddenly made complete sense.

Why were you so confused in the first place? Alastor always dropped by your apartment, every single day, since you arrived in Pentagram City. He was around so often he basically _lived_ here.

The fuzzy confusion in your brain suddenly disappears and you forget about it, as if it had never been there at all. Nothing about this was strange. When you had arrived in Hell, you had reunited with Alastor and being the greatest BFF that he is he had gotten an apartment ready for you. You've been living here since and every day you'd go with him to the Hazbin Hotel to help Lucifer's daughter. Yes, all of this made perfect sense.

"Man, what time is it?" you say with a yawn. You lean on your elbow pressed into the mattress to look at your wall clock. "We're gonna be late to the hotel."

"I'm sure Charlie wouldn't mind," Alastor says offhandedly and something in the back of your mind thinks _Who the Hell is Charlie?_ "Now, what would you like for breakfast?"

"We still have time to snap over to the hotel and have breakfast with the others like usual," you say, moving to stand up. You notice your laptop at the end of your bed as you do. "I've just gotta get ready first, unless you feel like snapping my clothes on for me—"

You've gotten your feet on the plush carpet but Alastor is suddenly gripping your arm, preventing you from moving any further away from him. His grip was strong, almost painful, but the furrow of your brows makes him loosen it.

"Ah, I don't think I have enough time to make a full breakfast for everyone at the hotel today." More and more guests have been staying there whom Alastor have been most happy to bless with his cooking (and fear that he poisoned everything), but it's too late now to be able to make enough for all of them. You feel a tinge of guilt for keeping him up late last night. "We can just have breakfast here! Besides, when was the last time we had eaten a proper meal together, just the two of us?"

You open your mouth to say, but the closest thing that comes to mind is when the two of you had sat down for tea at Rosie's. Some part of you is wondering how you know a Rosie. Ah, right, she's Alastor's friend. He had mentioned her before when you were alive.

Wait, _were_ alive?

Before you can keep questioning the thought, Alastor slides off the bed and _damn is he tall—_

He hums a familiar tune, sliding his hand down your arm until he's clasping your hand. He holds it up over your head and pulls you into a twirl before stepping away.

"I'll get started. Would you like to help me, my dear?" You feel your face redden, and you turn away and shake your head, hoping he doesn't notice.

"Uh, I don't feel like cooking, today," you say. You hate how tight your voice is. You cough lightly to try and clear it. "Sorry."

Alastor laughs you off, his hand reaching out. His fingers trace your cheek, gently turning your head back towards him. They ghost down to your chin and he lifts it up so your gaze meets his. Your face feels like it's on fire, and you _know_ you look like a tomato because Alastor's grin turns into a smug, amused smirk.

"That's quite alright, _**chérie**_." He emphasizes the word, and you have no doubt he's teasing your current complexion. "What would you like to have?"

This is likely a mistake, but nothing specific comes to your mind with it in such a lightheaded haze, so you say "Surprise me."

He knows what you like and _don't_ like and _hopefully_ he doesn't conjure up some human flesh to try and feed to you 'as a joke'. The excited grin that splits his face isn't very reassuring.

"I'll hop right to it! Go ahead and get dressed in the meantime, _chérie_." His hand lets go of your chin to pat your cheek. He then leaves your side to go to the kitchen, his little deer tail wagging at his rump and visible with the lack of his coat. You can't help but stare and giggle. Fortunately, he doesn't notice.

You close your room's door behind him. It's reminiscent of your bedroom back in the living world, a lot of trinkets and decorations similar to the ones you had then. Alastor had decorated it for you to help you feel more at home and then surprised you with it. You can't help but feel warm and fuzzy at the memory.

You can hear Alastor's music playing in the kitchen from here. You can't help but move your body to the rhythm, doing a twirl as you neared the closet.

_"There's a time each year  
That we always hold dear  
Good old summertime!  
With the birds and the trees'es  
And sweet scented breezes  
Good old summertime~"_

You brush your teeth and wash your face. You strip out of yesterday's clothes to take a quick shower, humming as you did. You can still hear the music even through the rushing of water.

_"When your day's work is over  
Then you are in clover  
And life is one beautiful rhyme  
No trouble annoying  
Each one is enjoying  
The good old summertime!"_

After you'd dried off, you pull out your 'work uniform', which is actually just an outfit Alastor had snapped onto you the first day you started helping out at the hotel. He didn't remove it afterwards, so you kept it, and you had felt like you should keep wearing it at the hotel so you did. It had an early 1900s aesthetic but with a bit of a modern flair to it.

_"In the good old summertime  
In the good old summertime_  
_Strolling through a shady lane  
With your baby mine."_

You pull on the button-up blouse and follow it up with the skirt, tucking the blouse beneath it. You slide your arms through the suit jacket and tug your socks on over your feet. He had given you heels and at first, you had had trouble with it, opting to wear flats, but now you were only grateful for the extra height considering how tall every one else seemed to be compared to you down here. The outfit had a bowtie, too.

You whirl around and the skirt flares around you. You love putting on this outfit. It made you feel really fancy and almost as dapper as Alastor. Speaking of, the entire ensemble was red, matching his own get-up. You found it sort of cute that he wanted to match, and you were glad that _he_ was the one that had decided that you were _those_ kind of friends for you.

_"You hold her hand and she holds yours  
And that's a very good sign_  
_That she's your tootsey-wootsey  
In the good old summertime..."_

You open the door and the delicious smell and nostalgia hits you immediately. It makes your mouth water and almost your eyes too. Oh... He wouldn't... He hadn't...

You rush into the kitchen where the music fills your your ears and the smell hits your nose. You suddenly feel like a little girl running downstairs and into the dining room where your mother had prepared you your favourite: Her classic, famous, chocolate waffles with peanut butter and strawberries on the side (it was your preference). You knew the recipe, but you have never been able to make it like she does. No one could, but Alastor...

He had the Gift, and he knew it.

"Go ahead and dig in," he calls from the sink where he's washing some dishes. The music lowers in volume so that you can hear him. "It's all yours, _chérie_."

His shadow stands in front of you and pulls out a chair, gesturing for you to sit down. You do so, feeling like some sort of noble lady being treated to a meal by her suitor. You blush at the thought, mentally laughing at yourself. As if Alastor would ever...

Sure, he'd call you 'darling' and 'dear' and give you clothes and cook for you, but that was just him been a gentleman. He'd never see you in _that_ way. You were just friends, and that's all you'll ever be.

You shake the thoughts out of your mind and refocus on the delicious meal on your table. More tears brim your eyes, and you pick up the knife and fork Alastor had set down for you. You cut out a piece and pop into your mouth.

Your tears are overflowing. The waffles are _perfect_ , just like how your mother makes them. The crispiness, the flavour, it threw you back to when you'd eat your mother's cooking each and every morning right before school. It reminded you of her hugs, her kisses, the warmth of her love...

You don't even notice that you'd started sobbing until Alastor's touch pulls you back to the present. His hands are cupping your face, his thumbs gently wiping away the tears streaming out of your eyes. His touch is gentle, careful as to not scratch you with his claws as he shushes you. You've never heard him so quiet, and even the music has lowered until you could hardly hear it.

"Whatever is the matter, my dear?" he says, his voice a mere whisper. You blink, and your eyes become clear enough for you to see him. There was concern in his eyes, and his smile is smaller than you've ever seen it. It could just be your blurry vision, but are his ears drooping? "Is it not to your liking? I tried my best to replicate—"

 _Oh, Al,_ you think, and not for the first time you wonder if he could still hear you. He doesn't show it if he does.

"No—Sweetie, no, it-it's perfect," you manage between sobs. "That's the thing. I—It's just that—"

"You miss her," he says for you, his voice tender. "You miss being alive."

You nod between his hands, which you hold with yours closer to your face. If you weren't feeling so torn up right now, you'd be flustered about it, about how close he was to you. His face is mere inches from yours, your noses almost touching.

"I-I'm sorry, Al," you sob, leaning into his right hand. "This life with you, it's great, it's... Amazing. All the friends I've made..."

You trail off, unsure on how to continue. You inhale a shaky breath and exhale it again to steady yourself.

"I just... I wish I'd gotten the chance to spend more time with her, you know? To enjoy my time alive and see more things..."

Alastor is quiet. Even the hum of his static can't be heard. He appears to be lost in thought, staring back into your eyes blankly. Something must have hit him hard for his smile drops, flattening into a solemn line. Against your better judgement, you hurriedly lift the corners back up with your fingers. You cup his face to hold it there.

"Hey, hey, hey... It's... Not your fault. Come on, smile, sweetie. You're never fully dressed without one, right?"

"But it is," he whispers. His voice is hollow, lacking any of the usual eagerness, the vigour, that he always carries. "Oh Lucifer. I... I can't do this. Not to you."

It's your turn to frown. You don't notice his hands falling away from your face to cradle the back of your head, holding all the loose strands of hair out of your face. The smile that you're forcing on him twitches.

"What are you talking about? What are you doing?" You lean closer to him, rubbing your thumbs beneath his eyes in what you hope was a reassuring gesture. He closes them, exhaling a warm, shaky breath over your lips. He keeps up a small smile, opening his eyes to peek at you between the smallest crack of his eyelids.

" _Mon chére... Mon amour..._ " his voice staggers. He leans close, touching your forehead with his. "I... I want to be with you. I want to be by your side forever; to hear you laugh, to hold your hand, to dance with you... I don't want to wait any longer for that, but..."

He stops to take in a breath. "As much as I want you for myself, I don't want to take you away from all that makes you happy."

A stray tear rolls down your cheek. Alastor catches it with his thumb, giving it a cursory glance before wiping it away on his hand.

"For now, I'm willing to wait."

You're speechless. He wants you? He wants to _be with you?_ The realization hits you like a truck and you gasp breathlessly, more tears spilling from your eyes at your bewilderment, relief and gladness.

He likes you too.

Alastor smiles. He wipes the rest of your tears away before standing. As soon as he distances himself from you, pulls his hands away, you miss his proximity, his touch. You want to grab his hand and pull him back to you, but you know that he doesn't like non-permitted touch. Your consideration is rewarded as he offers his hand to you anyway. 

"While we're still here... Will you dance with me, darling?"

Your heart skips a beat. The butterflies are swarming now, and the taste of your mother's—of _Alastor's_ waffles is strong on your tongue. You reluctantly lift your hand and place it tentatively in his, and his fingers wrap around it gently.

"I'd love to." Your voice comes out in a whisper. He pulls you to your feet. You forget about your heels and lose balance once you put weight on them, causing you to stumble forward face-first into his chest.

_Crap._

Your face is flaming now. You hurriedly push yourself off of him the best you could without touching him any more than you already are, stammering apologies as you did. You try to hide your beet-red face by looking down at your feet, cursing your own incompetence.

"Sorry... That probably ruined the mood, huh?" You laugh nervously. "God, I'm so sorry."

 _Why_ did you have to fall for a demon that was way out of your league? Um, literally and figuratively speaking.

Alastor snorts and then doesn't bother to hold back his laughter. Your face gets hotter in embarrassment and anger and you puff out your cheeks at him.

"Oh, _chérie_ , you really are a riot." he chuckles, wiping a tear from his eye. You fume, squeezing his hand angrily before shoving it away.

"Screw you. Now you don't get your dance." you declare, sticking your tongue out at him and crossing your arms over your chest defiantly. Your eyes are squinted shut in a deep scowl.

Alastor pouts. He holds your arms and try to pull them away from your body as he whines, "Aw, come now, darling. Just one song?"

You open one eye to peek at him. Alastor doesn't often beg or plead to get what he wants. He often just takes it, or relentlessly tease you until you give in and give it to him. Even though he has that same tone as he does when he's purposely trying to annoy you, there's something genuine in it and his expression. You sigh, dropping your arms to your sides.

"Fine. _One_ song."

It's not like you didn't want to, anyway. Dancing with Alastor's shadow was one thing, but the chance of actually dancing with him doesn't come up every day, even if this was a... What? A vision? A dream? You have zero idea, but you know that you don't want it to end.

Alastor grins. It's a genuine display of delight, making him look like a kid on Christmas Day. He offers his hand again. You take it, placing your other hand on his shoulder—or what you could reach of his shoulder anyway, even with the heels on. His other hand settles on your waist, and without needing to gesture or snap his fingers, the static in the air 'switches channels' and a song begins to play. It has a slow, _romantic_ start, which Alastor eases you into. You focus on his chest, because if you look into his eyes you fear that you just might burst into flames.

You do when he begins to _sing_.

_"Some enchanted evening you may see a stranger  
You may see a stranger across a crowded room  
And somehow you know, you know even then  
That somewhere you'll see her again and again..."_

Alastor twirls you easily even in your unresponsive state. Your knees are weak, your skin hot where his hands hold you. His voice weaves beautifully with the enchanting music. Your blood is rushing through your ears, your face, making you feel lightheaded.

_"Some enchanted evening, someone may be laughing  
You may_ _hear her laughing across a crowded room  
And night after night, as strange as it seems  
The sound of her laughter will sing in your dreams..."_

You're not in the kitchen anymore, or even the apartment, for that matter. You're outside, overlooking a dark city. Through your hazy vision, you catch sight of vulgar billboards and signs as well as citizens that you would've thought were strange and disturbing if you had been paying more attention.

_"Who can explain it, who can tell you why  
Fools give_ _you reasons, wise men never try."_

It takes a bit to piece together that the two of you were dancing on a roof somewhere. From the memories he's given you for this vision/hallucination thing, you recognise this as the rooftop to the Hazbin Hotel.

_"Some enchanted evening, when you find your true love  
When you feel her call you across a crowded room_  
_Then fly to her side and make her your own  
Or all through your life you may dream all alone..."_

Alastor spins, pulling you along with him. Your skirt sways with the motion, and a grin you're sure is goofy stretches across your face. It feels as if you're walking on air, as if you're floating high up in Heaven even though your heart and soul is deep down in Hell and at the mercy of a demon hungry for your love and affection.

You were fine with it, because you felt the same way.

_"Once you have found her, never let her go."_

The music winds down and so does your dance, Alastor bringing you through one last spin before it slows to gentle and simple swaying. He pulls you close, leaning down to rest his head on yours. His hands release you, ghosting down to hold your waist. You hover your hands over his chest reluctantly, so he once again lets go of you momentarily to allow you to place them there.

You allow yourself to lean into him, to rest your forehead on his chest as his arms hold you close. Your chest is filled with pleasant warmth and fuzziness and you don't ever want this dream to end.

_"Once I have found you, I'll never let you go..."_


	3. I Won't Ever Let You Go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _If you promise to stay with me for the rest of eternity._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The previous chapter is the closest y'all are ever gonna get 'characters sleeping together' from me. Also,
> 
> THANK YOU FOR 1K HITS ON THE FIRST FIC GUYS HOLY MOLY
> 
> Also I noticed that the hits for _this_ fic have been climbing really fast too and I'm just
> 
> Boy y'all are real thirsty Alastor aren't you (I am too)
> 
> No songs in this chapter, just pure fluff. Hope you all enjoy!

You awoke from the dream to the sterile smell of your Hospital room and the continuous beeping of the various machines you were hooked up to. You don't remember the dream exactly but you do remember dancing with Alastor. You don't remember what he looks like, though, but you wish you did.

According to your doctor, you had been out for a few days after getting hit by a small truck. Your mother had come as soon as you had been allowed visitors and you had to comfort her as she wept uncontrollably at your bedside. You haven't heard from Alastor since you woke up, but his shadow has been keeping you company. It still wasn't enough to fill the loneliness you felt at his absence and you often spent your time wondering about what he could be up to.

Your friends visited as often as they could, but they were busy with work and couldn't keep you entertained all hours of the day so most of your hours were spent with his mischievous shadow.

He squeaks a toy at your ear, startling you awake from your light nap.

"Cute," you chuckle tiredly at the little rubber dinosaur that he held in his wispy shadow-claws. With a closer look, you notice that he's holding an entire collection of rubber and plush toys under his arm. The goofiest, most adorable smile is on his face as he keeps holding out the dinosaur at you expectantly. You accept it with a giggle, and he dumps all the other toys onto your bed. "Aw, Chesh, how thoughtful of you."

Cheshire's eyes squint even more as his grin curls further. He sits himself down on your bed which doesn't shift at all at his nonexistent weight. He was just a shadow after all. He picks up one of the toys, a cute little sheep, and prances it around.

"Rah!!" you roar, pouncing the dinosaur on the sheep. Cheshire squeezes it before letting it fall with a dying bleat. You giggle, and the two of you continue to play for a little bit longer.

There's a sudden buzz of static in your ears and you pause in the middle of 'terribly mutilating' a bear with a moose. You go quiet, tilting your head a little bit to listen.

 _Al?_ you call to him. He doesn't respond.

You turn to Cheshire, who's also gone ominously still. You clear your throat awkwardly, putting the moose down gently on the animal pile. The shadow flinches and his glowing eyes refocus on you. He stares back at you for a long while, his smile empty.

"You okay, Chesh?" you tilt your head at him. He starts again and your childish and goofy shadow returns, picking your hairbrush up off the top of the bedside table and pointing at it excitedly. "Oh, you wanna brush my hair?"

He nods at light speed in affirmation. You chuckle at his antics and carefully reposition yourself to give him better access to your hair. Cheshire brushes your hair eagerly—Well, _tug_ is more accurate. The bristles catch on some tangles and he yanks on the brush. You mutter an "Ow." He does it a bit more carefully after that.

He continues his more gentle strokes until most of the tangles and knots have been pulled out. You feel him run his fingers through your hair, his claws lightly grazing the back of your head and neck. Once he's satisfied, he starts to carefully braid your now neat and silky locks. From what you can feel, he's doing the half-up braid that you had taught him recently. Your chest swells with endearment and affection and you want to just turn around and hug him.

When he's done, he hands you your phone, the camera flipped so that you can see his work. You angle your head around and hum appreciatively, taking a few photos to look at it a lot more closely. You can't help but feel pride blossom in your chest.

"It's pretty!" you say, carefully dancing your fingers over the braid and feeling the dips and rises. "Thanks, Chesh."

Cheshire beams at you. He wraps his arms around you in a quick, whispy shadow-hug, bumping against one of the toys on your bed as he did.

"Oh, you should probably bring those back, bud," you tell him as he pulls away. "before the kids start to miss them."

He nods in agreement, but the way he's smiling is making his eyes squint mischievously. Wait, no, it's not mischief. It's eagerness, but not the same one as from earlier. He reminds you of a kid about to get the puppy he's been pestering his parents for for years.

Cheshire gathers all the fake animals off your bed and bows to you before vanishing into the floor. You always wonder how he does it with objects, but it's probably just more demon magic.

You admire the braid again and you don't notice you're smiling so wide until you see your own reflection in the empty blackness of your phone's screen. You rub your cheeks, astonished at how strangely comfortable you are with showing your teeth and how wide you can smile without your cheeks hurting.

There's a knock at your room's door. You look away from the reflection to call them in when suddenly your eyes are being covered. You startle and your breath hitches. Your hands fly to the ones being held over your eyes to pry them away when someone says:

**"Guess who?"**

You freeze. Your breath catches in your throat.

 _That voice..._ It was muffled with static and spoken with an air of mischievousness. They could only be one person.

You loosen your fingers.

"Alastor?" you whisper. You don't know if you want it to be, or if you believe it could be. You can almost feel the smile as the hands drop away from your eyes. Still, you keep them closed. You breathe a staggering breath as you slowly turn in place, your eyes closed tightly and shakily in anticipation.

You open them slowly. The first thing you see are some red slacks. Then, as your eyes draw upwards, you see a slightly torn, striped red coat and a bouquet of flowers held in a pair of clawed hands belonging to a handsome, deer-eared, red-haired demon smiling charmingly at you.

"Correct!" he chirps. "I'm happy to know that you're still my clever little belle."

You blush at that and quickly try to force it away. He only said a few words and was just being gentlemanly! What was wrong with you??

"Ah." you say cleverly.

Alastor shifts the bouquet onto one arm. Before you know it, he's taken your hand in his and is planting a chaste kiss to the back of it. Your eyes are blinking rapidly in disbelief. The hand hangs in the air awkwardly for a few seconds after he lets it go so you lower it, daring to meet his eyes with your own.

"I..." You pause, searching for something more eloquent to say. "This is a dream... Right?"

Alastor's smile softens. He becomes thoughtful for a moment, finding interest in the flowers before looking into your eyes again. You feel as if he can hear whatever it is that you're thinking, which, currently, is _This can't be real. I have to be dead. If not he's probably here to kill me and when he does I'd probably thank him._

You don't know why you're so worried, though. It's not as if he's never been able to hear you think before.

"This can be whatever it is that you want it to be," Alastor says. "A dream, a visit from a friend... It doesn't really matter, because I'm here either way." He flicks his hand, and the visitor's chair slides over to him. He falls down onto his rear, the chair stopping right behind him to catch him at the exact moment. Your eyebrows shoot up at the sight but you don't comment on it. He's done wackier stuff before.

"These are for you." he holds out the flowers to you, the sweetest smile on his face. You can't help but mirror it, your cheeks warming as you accept the bouquet.

"Aww, thanks, Al," you say with a small laugh of disbelief. "That's really sweet of you."

Alastor beams at you. You've only seen him physically for a few minutes, but you get the sense that he's always smiling all the time and honestly, you can't imagine him _not_ smiling, and for as long as you've known him he's always been badgering you to smile more than you already do so it made sense.

You rest the flowers in your lap. They're your favourite kind of flowers, and you absentmindedly finger one of their petals, feeling the texture on your skin. You breathe in their scent and you feel a thousand times better.

You jump a little when you turn back towards Alastor. He's staring at you, his eyes hooded and his chin resting on the back of his hands. His gaze was on you and yet far away at the same time. A few minutes pass. He doesn't blink once. It's kind of unsettling.

Suddenly, his eyes refocus and he leans back so fast you're afraid that he's going to get whiplash. He grins, baring sharp, yellow fangs that you have no doubt could bite your head clean off your shoulders.

"Ah! I'm so sorry about leaving you alone for so long my dear!" he says, but he's talking so loud that it's probably more fitting to refer to it as an exclamation. "Things at the hotel have been a bit busy. You know how it is!" He opens his mouth and knocks his head back as he laughs loudly. You chuckle along nervously. He rights his head again but then it tilts to the side and he rests his cheek in his palm, smushing it. It's kind of cute. "How have you been doing?"

"Me? Oh, I've been... okay." You share your body with this demon and yet you feel really awkward interacting with him in person. He was so all over the place and spoke a lot in his gestures; a gentleman in one second and then a hyperactive radio host in the next. How was he even here, anyway? "I mean, as okay as a person can get recovering from a road accident, heh. I didn't get too lonely. Our friends visit, and so does Mom. Your shadow has been keeping me company, too—Oh!"

You grin, turning your head to show him the braids. "He was the one who did my hair! Cute, right?"

Alastor hums with interest and he leans in closer to look at them. Okay, _too_ close. His face is almost touching your hair and you're freaking out again.

"Of course he did..." you hear him mutter. When his eyes finally draw away from your hair to your face, his expression relaxes again and he says in a louder volume, "Yes. You look lovely, my dear."

Another blush dusts your cheeks and so you turn away to hide it as well as the giddy smile that stretches across your face. Crap, you really had it bad didn't you if a compliment as simple as that could turn you into a blushing mess.

You shouldn't be feeling this way. Not for a _demon_. Crushing on a demon isn't normal. Sharing a body with one and making friends with it isn't normal either. You should probably be more worried that he had somehow physically manifested and is sitting really close to you in your hospital room while your body is very vulnerable. Not like you could do anything even when you are at full health, anyway. He could snap you like a twig whenever he wanted to and you'd thank him.

Since when had you become _that_ kind of person? Probably the moment you'd bought that radio... It had been listed as 'Haunted' and you had thought _Cool, the ghost could kill me so I wouldn't have to repay my student loans or possess me and take my finals for me._ and added it to your cart without a second thought.

It turned out to be the latter and you have been suspecting since the moment you met Alastor that the former would happen any day now.

Your life hasn't been normal since the moment you bought that radio, since the moment it arrived and since the moment a demon used it to talk to you and since the moment you had made a deal with him.

Your life became far from normal since you started to watch musicals and cooking shows with said demon, since you started to willingly sing and dance with him, since you started feeling happiness instead of dread when you heard his voice in your mind, since you started _having feelings for him._

Your life is filled with nothing but the abnormal and the unusual. What difference does one more thing make?

You have a crush on Alastor and you don't care if he's a demon. That should be scary, but not to you, not anymore.

Alastor's fingers on your face pull you out of your thoughts. His touch is cold on your warm skin, and you let him turn your head so that you'd face him again. He lifts your chin, and you feel his nose brush yours ever so slightly. You look into his ruby-red eyes and you forget about how close the two of you are in favour of getting lost in them.

"Don't hide that darling smile of yours, _chérie_ ," he whispers, his breath warm on your lips. "I love to see it with my own eyes and not just in a mirror."

Your smile is so wide now that it starts to challenge his. You break eye contact just to glance at his lips. You consider leaning in or pulling him close, but you don't know if he'd welcome either of those actions.

You're about to ask him when you notice that _he's looking at your lips too oh God—_

He lifts his head and closes the distance between the two of you. Your heart is hammering so hard that you're sure that he can hear it too. You curl your lips over your teeth giddily and your nerves force your eyes to close. You exhale breathlessly as his lips press against your forehead. His touch lingers, cold on your red-hot skin.

He leans away and you immediately miss his proximity, his touch.

"I wish I could stay for longer," Alastor sighs. He actually sounds... Disappointed. "Would you still like to go see the stars sometime?"

You open your eyes and you feel your breath catch again. Dammit, how'd he manage to look even more handsome?

"Y-Yeah. Of course." A silly smile stretches across your face. "Why wouldn't I? Time spent with you is always fun."

Alastor chuckles. His fingers brush your cheek. Before you can think any better of it, you reach up and take his hand. You bring it to your lips and press a gentle kiss to his knuckles. You peer up at him through your eyelashes, your eyes squinting from how wide you were smiling.

"I'll see you again, won't I?"

Alastor's expression is gentle, hopeful as he whispers "Yes."

He leans his forehead against yours. Your breaths mingle. You close your eyes and the two of you remain in that position, savouring the comfort of each other's presence for a little longer.

"Farewell, _mon chére_."

You open your eyes and he's gone. You wouldn't have believed that he had been there if not for the flowers in your lap and the fuzzy static of his magic lingering in the air as well as the rapid beating of your heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I get you with that kiss tease?? I know I got me with that kiss tease when I was editing this WHEW (Alastor was absolutely gonna go for it but chickened at the last second)
> 
> Anyway are y'all interested in some Vox x Reader cause uhh I _may_ have started writing a one-shot in the middle of editing this because I love him as much as I love Alastor tbh he's got a good aesthetic and his character seems fun to write.
> 
>  _Also there's a disappointing lack of fluffy Vox x Reader fics in this fandom so SOMEONE'S gotta write some._ I mean, I know we know pretty much nothing about him but come on guys. Headcanons are just as fun too!
> 
> 💕💕💕 Thank you so much for reading Stay With Me For Eternity guys! 💕💕💕


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